


Spiderhero

by Mythyk, Writing_will_be_my_death



Category: Original Work, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Random - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-10-04 13:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17305448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythyk/pseuds/Mythyk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_will_be_my_death/pseuds/Writing_will_be_my_death
Summary: This seems to have evolved into a multi-chapter Spider-Verse fanfiction. The chapters get progressively longer and settle around 1000 words/chapter, I believe.





	1. Spiderhero

**Author's Note:**

> First idea: I've just had Into The Spider-Verse on mind so, why not. It's a spidersona, I guess.

"Hello, and welcome to [insert news network here]. Today, we have invited this city's well-known 'Spiderhero' for an interview!"

The audience cheers as a person wearing jeans and a sweater walks up to the stage. They wave a black glove to the audience, and you can see their pale skin where their suit doesn't cover it. Their red hair also hangs down, out of the well-known ponytail most have seen.

As they shake the host's hand they speak, "Thank you for having me." It sounds high for a male - or is it deep for a woman? They sit down, the mask unable to convey any thoughts.

As the interview continues, much could be learned about this Spiderhero - if only they would bring more specific details to the table. Which none believe they ever do.

* * *

Media has been tracking this "spiderhero" since they were first noticed. No one really knows who they are, and they always tease, but never tell.

Name: Unknown

Title: Spiderhero

Age: Appears to be mid-twenties or early thirties

Outfit: Hoodie and pants

Spider suit: black, with magenta highlights. Mask is more complex, almost but not quite a gas mask.


	2. Another Spider? (Pt.1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news reports another event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess that's happening...

"Reporting live, on the scene. Here, outside the Sinclair Centre, what appears to be our beloved Spiderhero has restrained a suspicious man."

The camera pans behind the reporter, revealing a man lying face-down on the sidewalk, rope holding his wrists behind his back and his ankles. He unsuccessfully tries to get up, but a person shoves his face back into the pavement. A cut starts to bleed near his temple.

The person turns to the camera and approaches police, who have arrived on scene. They have a cheap white mask covering their face, with a hoodie, sweatpants, and black gloves. A bag of white substance is passed between them and the lead officer. The reporter and camera are close enough to pick up their conversation.

“That guy’s a drug dealer,” the person spoke. “He had all that cocaine on him.” They turn to leave before anyone can interject.

“Wait!” the reporter says. “Can we ask you a few questions before you leave?”

The person throws them a peace sign without looking back, and proceeds to jump the full 29 stories to the top of the building. They scramble a moment before disappearing a full 409 feet, an absolute 124 metres above the gathering crowd.

“Well, that was… certainly new,” the reporter stutters, still gawking at the roof. “This was Trisha, reporting live from the Sinclair Centre. Back to you, Ro.”

* * *

Name: Unknown

Title: Spiderhero?

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Hoodie and sweatpants

Spider suit: Hoodie, sweatpants, black gloves, cheap white mask

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This new character was actually created by Writing_will_be_my_death, however you can say I was first to write this character, though they have a drawing on their tumblr. Might be interesting to check it out ;)


	3. Another Spider? (Pt.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different perspective...

“Hey,” the Spiderhero said as they walked into their roommate’s room – the only one who knew their identity. “What’s up?”

“Hey, uh… you said you went to the Sinclair Centre for one of your patron requests, right?” they replied, hesitant, watching them from the corner of their eye.

“Yeah…”

“Did it involve a dollar store mask?”

“No?” the Spiderhero was now looking very quizzically at their friend.

The other now looked directly at them. A mix of surprise and excitement displayed itself on their face, then they turned quickly to their multiple screens and said, “You gotta check this out.”

On their largest screen, they replayed the news feed as the Spiderhero moved to lean against their chair. Eyebrows raised, they watched as this other person interacted with others.

“So, what do you think?” the roommate turned in their chair, causing the other to step back slightly.

“Well, I took a selfie up top, on the other side,” they stated. “I don’t think I saw them…” They pulled out their phone to look at the image they took. “Here, this is what I did.”

“Away from it all, huh?” they stated.

“Yep. Wasn’t even turned in this direction whatsoever.” The Spiderhero looked at the clip again, “I wonder who they are…”

* * *

Name: Unknown

Title: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Sweater, t-shirt, leggings

Connection: Spiderhero’s roommate and friend


	4. Rude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People are consistently capable of being insensitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was kind of a different characterisation for me, since I was writing from the point of view of a character that isn't really mine. But hey, at least Writing_will_be_my_death was helpful with creating this!

This was not how you expected your day to go.

First of all, what could cause you to suspect an aggressor to be working with their “victim”?

Secondly, why is no one ever polite?

Of _course_ you were going to stop a mugging – especially a violent one. They were holding a _knife_ , after all.

But when they spotted you? Apparently that was a bad idea. _Both_ of them turned on you; and one of them even had a _phone_ out. Without a doubt they were recording this.

The other went for your head.

Well, not exactly _head_ , but probably the mask. Which was on your head.

That stupid white mask you had to wear so no one would judge you. Or call the police.

Sure, you could give them credit that they were persistent and managed to _touch_ your mask, but you still took them down in under three minutes. So, that was an accomplishment.

They did have your arms pinned behind you for a moment; however, you just took advantage of that to lift up your feet and kick the one holding the phone to the ground. You winced slightly when their phone broke on the ground. Those cost a fortune to replace. There wasn’t much sympathy lost there in the moment, especially since they were trying to _pull your mask off_.

As always, though, the commotion drew a crowd. You were not a fan whatsoever. People were stopping, staring, and starting to pull out their own phones and cameras. However, it was only the start of the crowd (still at least twenty, _maybe_ thirty people) and you could easily jump away. Which you did.

Well, that was the end of that.

Such was not the case when you sat in a cheap café, wearing a “normal,” or “civilian,” outfit, when the news came on that evening.

“Today we report the same white-masked person, suspected to also be our wonderful Spiderhero,” the reporter introduced. “It appears that they assaulted two civilians today, which was recorded by one of the victims.”

The clip plays out. There are no coherent words that can be made out. It starts when you advance on the perceived attacker, and their altercation. There, your  arms are pinned back. You kick the one holding the camera, and – the video cuts out. The phone must have been pretty damaged to stop recording.

“We have attempted to contact Spiderhero in regards to this assault,” the reporter states, “but they have not responded nor appear to plan on adding any comment. The police ask that, if anyone has information about this event, that they come forward.”

The TV moves onto the weather, while you remain there, seated and thinking about the video. It wasn’t clear that those two were going for your mask. The only thing clear was that you advanced towards one, and… fought both of them. But that was media. Always messing with and skewing reality as it was.

Especially since you _weren’t_ a spider.

* * *

Name: Unknown

Title: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Hoodie, sweatpants, white mask, black gloves

Connection: Unknown

Other: _Not_ a spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For later chapters... if people created fan accounts on social media, what do you think they'd be called?


	5. It Was Just Another Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the daily life of Spiderhero

6:25 am

Spiderhero checked their phone for any new requests they might have gotten recently, as soon as they were out of their bed. They go to their main social media, where they see that someone had messaged them.

_spidey-is-great: hey spiderhero, can you take a picture from the top of the sinclair centre?_

_that-s-so-spider: I could, but I only do requests for patrons, sorry!_

They grab a shirt and pair of pants from their closet’s floor, deemed clean enough for today. The weather, looking out their window, looked decent enough.

_spidey-is-great: why?_

_that-s-so-spider: Like anyone else, I need an income to live. Since I can’t commit to a consistent schedule (the news probably shows that), I have to find a different job that I can work with. If you put a small amount of money in my account (the link is in my profile) with the request, I can do it for you! You’ll be the first to see the image, 24 hours in advance :)_

6:32 am

Spiderhero didn’t receive a reply from this person as they poured themselves a bowl of cereal and turned on the coffee maker; however, midway through their breakfast, they received a notification:

_spidey-is-great donated $10.00_

_“take a picture from the top of the sinclair centre! how about near the food court? :)”_

They smiled to see this message. This fan had donated a little extra for this (Spiderhero only charged around $7 per picture, unless the stunt was a little more challenging). Spiderhero was going to do something a little more interesting for them.

_spider-number-one donated $12.00_

_can you do a recording of burning a bagel above the sinclair food court? thx! if you don’t, pics are good_

Spiderhero smiled. They’d record that video for one of their long-time fans. And convenient too, considering the previous request. Maybe they’d buy something new today at the mall.

6:50 am

“Mornin’,” their roommate walked in, still rubbing sleep from their eyes. “What’s today’s plans?”

“Heading to the Sinclair Centre,” Spiderhero stated. “Want anything?”

“Mm… Can’t think of anything,” they poured themselves a cup of coffee. “Maybe I could get some food?”

“Think we’re fine. What’s your shift? ‘Til three?”

“One. Short day,” they put bread in the toaster. “Start at eight.”

Spiderhero smiled, putting their dishes in the dishwasher, “Nice.”

“Heading now?”

“Might make it a short day,” they winked, hugging their roommate briefly before grabbing their bag. “I’ll try to be back around two, maybe three. Text me if I should pick anything up.”

“Alright. Seeya~”

Before Spiderhero left the apartment building, they pulled out another key and went to the top floor of the building. They owned a smaller, one-room apartment with very little in it. The perks were that it was out of the way of where most people went and also had easier access to the roof.

They pulled off their shirt and jeans as they walked to a specific wall. They placed their hand on a well-worn spot; a concealed closet opened. There hung their spider suit. They tugged it on, the comfortable fabric gripping their skin. Once everything was adjusted properly, they pulled on their jeans and stuffed their shirt in their bag. Finally, Spiderhero grabbed their mask.

Powering it on was the last detail. Everything was fully charged, ready for the day.

7:03 am

“Send message to Techy: suited up,” they commanded. The suit obliged, showing the message on the edge of their mask.

Double-checking that everything was in their bag, they put on their sweater. Once they were certain the alley below was clear, they climbed to the roof.

“Parkour time,” they grinned, right before bolting across the entire length and launching themselves across the road.

***

Spiderhero stood, stretching themselves out and sitting on the edge of the roof. They checked the time.

7:34 am

They were on top of the Sinclair Centre. Climbing across the uneven roof, they made their way to the food court. They’d have to buy a lighter and a bagel. A bagel might even be a fun addition to that new person’s request.

After zipping up their hoodie and packing away their mask, they deemed themselves “disguised” enough to go into the mall without too much trouble.

Half an hour later with a bagel and lighter in hand, Spiderhero slipped down an alley to pull their mask back on. They looked back, figuring out their best plan of action.

Climb the wall right there. Swing across using the opposite building. Probably land about twenty feet from the food court. Execute.

_Success!_ they grinned.

“Oi! Spidey!”

They turned to the caller.

“Can you do a trick?”

Rolling their eyes, they obliged. Handstand and a spin near the edge of the roof. A few people cheered as they bowed and waved farewell.

“Onto business,” they muttered, still with a slight smile. “Selfies.”

Balancing the bagel on their shoulder, they took a picture. They then spun it and fooled around some more for the camera, and a few without the bagel as well. All the while, they did their best to keep their face/mask and “logo” in the picture. (The logo being a simple geometric set of shapes to look vaguely like a spider. Their roommate helped them out with the design.)

After that, they set the bagel on the concrete and propped up the phone to record the video.

“So, ‘spider-number-one,’ you want me to burn this nutrition away? Let’s see if I can!” Spiderhero held the lighter close to the bagel. “I really don’t know if this’ll a- _oh geez it did oh man-_ ” they jump back a bit in surprise. “I mean it makes sense, anything can burn, but that was _fast_. I mean, I got it toasted so it’s drier, but okay.” They pick up the phone and bagel. “So now I can say I’m _burning carbs!_ ” they laugh, then drop the bagel as it’s entirely consumed by the fire, and they turn the phone to keep watching it burn. “Well, hope you like charred bread, because that’s what it is now,” they keep chuckling.

9:52 am

Other requests that were listed on their phone, they checked while they cleaned up the charred remains.

 

_spiderhero-protection-squad donated $20.00_

_backflip off hotel europe_

_arachnid-love donated $8.00_

_selfie from the top of the tallest building??_

_gay-spiderhero donated $11.69_

_asfgghjdfdsf selfie at [address]_

 

Spiderhero put their phone away and climbed down, tossing the charcoal in a trash can. They then climbed up a nearby office building, waving at a few of the office workers that noticed them. They smiled, happy to brighten their day at least a bit.

At the top, they looked around. There was a fair amount of distance between each, so they’d jump off Hotel Europe to start; the most energy would be the best choice for this. Based on the price, they’d take a video of it, using a mount on the roof.

10:04 am

“Alright,” they took a breath. “Hello, spiderhero-protection-squad! So, I’ll be doing a backflip off this building, Hotel Europe. I’ll be jumping here,” they pointed, “then catch myself using that light pole,” another point, “and hopefully land either back on this building or the ground there. Could be the wall opposite there, though.”

They jumped, flipping back so they briefly saw their camera upside down, and turned to the light pole, swinging and twisting around; they landed on the wall, and they ran back up with their momentum to the camera.

“Now _that_ was a thrill!” they exclaimed, grinning. “Thanks for the tip.” They stopped the recording.

They sighed.

Next stop would be finding the tallest building.

A Google search later and they were off to their next location; the tallest building.

There, they lay down on their back, and took a selfie with their arm stretched over the side of the building. The image ended up being half of them, and half of the busy road and buildings below. They smiled, enjoying looking at the effect.

12:15 pm

They stopped by a sandwich shop to pick up lunch. Scrolling through a few more requests, most of them were simple enough to complete images right in the area they chose to eat. They also walked around to chat with people along the street who called out to them.

Those little interactions, they always considered them worth it. You never knew what was going on in others’ heads, or lives for that matter, so you might as well do something nice. Besides, it reminded them of why they took on the role they did in the first place.

12:51 pm

Final destination: [address]. They decided to take it a little easier, being careful as they walked along the roof edges, waving to anyone they saw. Eventually, they just walked along the street as they neared the residential area of the city.

1:30 pm

They arrived at the location, and they stood there, looking at the building, thinking of what sort of perspective they’d take the picture from. Bug’s-eye-view seemed like it would suit.

2:05 pm

“Hey,” Spiderhero said as they entered Techy’s room. “What’s up?”

“Hey, uh…” they hesitated, “you said you went to the Sinclaire Centre for one of your patron requests, right?”

“Yeah…” they told them, didn’t they?

“Did it involve a dollar store mask?”

Wait, what? “No?”

Oh, great. They had that look in their eye. Something rather important must have happened. Or at least interesting. “You gotta check this out.”

On their largest screen, they played the day’s news feed. They raised their eyebrow with interest. A white mask, huh? _And_ jumping a solid twenty-eight storeys? This person was rather… introverted, perhaps was the word. Or asocial. Antisocial, not quite, they didn’t think.

“So, what do you think?”

“Well, I took a selfie up top, on the other side,” they replied. “I don’t think I saw them…” They pulled out their phone to check the pictures they had taken. “Here, this is what I did.”

“Away from it all, huh?” they stated.

“Yep.” Spiderhero looked at the clip as it replayed, “Wasn’t even turned in this direction whatsoever. I wonder who they are…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over doubled this book's wordcount in one chapter!
> 
> Always open to critique
> 
> ~Mythyk <3


	6. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking on another perspective

Ever since we saw the clip from the mall, of that person in the white mask exposing the drug dealer, my mind has kept coming back to them. Who were they? Why did they do that? Will they show up again?

I decided to look back at any potential news. They seemed to keep a low profile, so I looked for any strange cases that had come up in the past few years. There were a surprising number of suspects found tied up, where they could be found, without a trace of who had done it.

Patterns were almost non-existent. All of these events happened at different times, different locations, with no visible central area. At least, that’s how it was at the start of my search.

I managed to eliminate a few cases and solidify others, based on any mention of a white mask or hooded figure, or if the person had been identified. Each person who claimed to be the one to do the deed looked wildly different, so I decided not to trust most of them, unless their height matched what I could estimate from the video.

White-mask, as I decided to call them, had certain defining features: they were always wearing the mask and black gloves. That meant there would be no fingerprint ID, or any form of facial-recognition software. They stood at about 5’7”, and looked rather androgynous; that made the probability to be male higher. Then again, it was only based on general statistics. This was one person.

I researched buildings in each area; by talking walks, or looking at maps, the like. Most areas had a shelter within a block or two. Sometimes it was a not-for-profit location for other services. It seemed they cared more to look out for the poor. I looked back to Kori’s map I’d built; they did remain in the more… ‘popular’ areas.

The most recent news, within six months, hovered around two specific locations. Nailed it! I’d watch those two locations, while still keeping an eye on the news. White-mask did seem popular, after all.

I heard the door click as I finished up my research of two – or was it three? – weeks, and I called out, “Hey Kori, check this out!”

She came in, and my screens were already set up to present my research. “What are you researching now?” she asked, that quirked eyebrow and mildly amused tone lacing her voice.

“White-mask,” I told her, eager to explain. “They tend to help the homeless, disabled, or just about any minority, based on what I could gather.”

“How long?”

“Well, two or three weeks to narrow it down…” I awkwardly leaned against my desk.

“Sounds like a record.”

I blushed a bit. I guess I was spending a little too much time every day on this project. “How was your day, anyways?”

“Oh, some people demanding answers to their theories,” she replied nonchalantly, “a couple simple criminals. The usual. Not too bad.”

“Order in or cook?”

“I’m feeling pizza,” Kori shrugged as she turned back to the hallway. “I’ll get it ready.”

“’Kay. I’ll set up a movie?”

“Sure.”

* * *

We sat together on the couch, our opposite ends while we ate, with Star Trek, my favourite show, running on the TV. Eventually, Kori paused an episode (right at the end!) to put away the plates before coming back with dessert and leaning up against me, as we usually did. She played a bit with the long strings of my hoodie as we watched, already seeming to doze off slightly.

I turned off the TV when the episode ended. “C’mon,” I said, “you gotta get to bed.”

“Mm,” she replied, getting up. She trudged to the bathroom, brushing her teeth as I got changed.

I knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “Done?”

The door opened to allow my entry as she slid past me. I looked at myself in the mirror. We’d lived together so long, we didn’t really think about how we looked – either of us. So, I always wondered why I stared at myself in the mirror every night.

I was just a regular mixed-race kid with grandparents immigrated from India. I had an education background with regards to my programming and computer skills. I could decently repair most hardware, though I still have to hire a plumber for any leaks. From going to post-secondary here to finding a solid job, I’ve stayed here. My parents lived a little way away, but not so far that I rarely visited them.

Then again, they didn’t know Kori’s career. It would be a shock to their system if they ever found out. All I told them was she did work for “donations” from her fans. That _was_ most of her work, when she wasn’t saving us from imminent disaster.

I walked back to the bedroom to see Kori reading; ever since I knew her, she was the biggest bookworm I’ve met. Especially with those glasses to suit her style. She loved telling me about stories she’d read or imagined, and hearing her talk about them was fun. In the same way, whenever I decided to ramble about my own books I loved, she’d always listen.

“I’ve got an early shift tomorrow,” I told her as I climbed under my side of the sheets. “You good to sleep?” I placed my own glasses on my night table

“Sure,” Kori replied after a moment; probably just finished a paragraph at the right time. She set her book down and turned off her lamp, plunging the room into the dark.

Living with Kori has really been something I would never change my mind about.

* * *

Name: Unknown

Nickname(s): Techy

Title: Unknown

Social Media: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Unknown

Connection(s): Spiderhero’s friend

Other: Indian (mixed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than before, but I hope you still enjoy it! I'm open to suggestions
> 
> ~Mythyk <3


	7. Encounter (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiderhero has a surprise in her day.

After yet another day running around the same city as ever, Spiderhero returned home to rest. She landed on her building’s roof, and proceeded to walk towards the back, where her small apartment was. Crawling down the wall, she carefully unlocked and slid open the window just wide enough for her to shimmy through.

Just as soon as she closed the window, a greenish silhouette shot past it.

“What the?” she immediately threw the window open and wall-jumped her way to the roof. (Thank goodness for the close buildings.)

Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the window being open for a bit. The figure was still on her apartment’s roof. She called out to them before they reached even halfway across the flat area. They turned, and Spiderhero took in their appearance briefly. They wore a hoodie – the source of green – and a cheap white mask. _So, it must be that “other” Spiderhero_ , she presumed.

All they did was turn and say, “-you and your unborn child.”

“I’m sorry?” Spiderhero was absolutely, utterly confused by such a blunt statement.

They repeated their statement, this time more… obviously rude.

“Okay then…” she hesitated. “So uh, you’re that one they think is, well, me, right?”

“Why do you care?” they replied. Blunt about everything, it seemed.

“Well, uh…” Spiderhero frowned beneath their mask. Well, it would probably still look something like that to them. “Because I’m… implicated?”

"I don't care, and neither should you."

Spiderhero felt verbally slapped with that statement. They couldn’t come up with any response before the figure jumped to a higher building and disappeared. She probably couldn’t find them anyways, despite it still being broad daylight.

After a few dumbfounded moments, Spiderhero returned to her little apartment, to leave her suit in its hidden compartment before making her way home, a few floors down.

She unlocked the door and opened it, to hear Techy call out, “Hi Kori! I made some extra food if you’re hungry. It’s in the fridge."

“Thanks MJ!” she replied, making her way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge door, there was a glass container with a mix of mac’n’cheese and cut up hot dogs. She put it in the microwave, pulled out the bottle of ketchup, and grabbed a fork as she waited. “Day off, right?” Kori called to MJ.

“I just had to do some work from home for today,” she called back. “Much happen with you?”

“That’s gonna be for later,” Kori grinned. She knew that MJ would hear by the tone of her voice it would be interesting.

Turning on the TV just before the microwave beeped, she turned to her preferred news channel, CBC, to check for any updates. After all, if radioactive spiders exist, why couldn’t strange or creative villains exist as well? She’s had her fair share already, anyways.

The news was still focused on the Spiderhero Conspiracy. Great. That again.

Kori huffed, and started flipping channels as she ate, giving up and returning to CBC. At least she’d find out whether or not they were “closer” to the truth. She wouldn’t involve herself, not even if she were invited to talk about it on set with these news-folk or some popular celebrity. Leave it to the people to decide or discover for themselves what the truth actually was.

“HOL- MJ!” Kori cried out when MJ flopped on top of her unexpectedly on the couch.

“So, gonna hold the tea or spill it before dinner?” MJ asked innocently, blinking up at her. She looked somewhat cute to Kori, with those wide eyes and little pout.

“M, you know how I like to do it,” Kori booped her nose, “the best tea for dinner.”

She pouted. “Well, can I at least get _some_ tea?” she begged.

Kori sighed, looking at the ceiling as she rethought her way through the day in her mind. “Hm… let’s see, I got surrounded by fans at one point – mostly fangirls, I think?”

MJ giggled a bit as she recounted most of the day, adding her own commentary to some moments. The afternoon flew by, and before they knew it, it was already seven.

“Huh,” Kori commented upon noting the time. “Should we order-in, then?”

MJ hit her playfully. “C’mon, we can still have some leftovers! And microwave whatever else.”

She chuckled, “Alright,” and got up to check what the options were.

A reheated-microwave-prepared meal later, the pair was seated at the table, and Kori finally told MJ of her latest encounter.

“I spoke to White-Mask on the roof.”

MJ froze for a moment, wide-eyed. Then she snapped of it out and began to ramble, “You actually spoke to them? Dude! That’s amazing! On _this_ roof? That’s so amazing I can’t believe you actually managed to talk to them they’re so evasive!”

Kori chuckled, entertained by her enthusiasm. “I did lose them because I didn’t respond fast enough,” she pointed out.

“So, what _are_ they like?” MJ asked, leaning ever-so-slightly forwards.

“Well, they’re blunt, for one,” Kori poked at her food, picking up a bit. “They… were kinda rude… I guess they just don’t really like people.” Another bite. “They, uh. Cussed out me and my ‘unborn child,’ too.”

She scoffed. “That’s rich.”

“Yeah, I guess. But they probably have their reasons…” she even doubted herself as she said it. She could only hope.

The pair finished their meal, cleaning up together as they danced to music together. Kori dragged MJ to get ready for bed, despite her protests about something on her computer.

“You can deal with it tomorrow, can’t you?” Kori asked.

“…Fine,” she relented.

The pair continued their night as usual, curling up against each other as they fell asleep, still telling each other about their individual highlights of the day.

Kori smiled as she fell asleep. Perhaps she would never know this other “Spiderhero,” but she had MJ, who she could count on to help her out with saving this city, over and over, while still being human at home.

* * *

Name: Kori

Nickname(s): Unknown

Title: Spiderhero

Social Media: that-s-so-spider

Age: Unknown

Outfit: black and magenta spidersuit, ‘gas mask’-like mask, sweater, pants

Connection(s): Techy’s roommate, the local hero

Other: Reading glasses, Female

* * *

Name: Unknown

Nickname(s): Techy, MJ

Title: Unknown

Social Media: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Unknown

Connection(s): Spiderhero’s roommate

Other: Glasses, black hair, Indian (mixed), Female

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was interesting to figure out how this would work, but I like how it turned out. Any sort of comment is always welcome here!
> 
> ~Mythyk <3


	8. Encounter (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New perspective, same sort of story.

Ugh, another stupid day of, “Are you Spiderhero?” and “Who are you?” from just about any person walking down the street. Your senses feel like they’ve been going haywire since you first went viral in that _one_ video.

You check the alley you’re standing in, left and right, to see you’re _really_ alone. Shouldn’t _always_ rely on that weird sixth sense, right? In one motion, you make it to the top of the roof easily enough. (But _man_ , did they have to build these things so close together?)

You’re running across the roof when you hear someone call out to you. Before you’re even properly turned around you start, “-you and your unborn child.”

“I’m sorry?” the person replies. They barely look stunned, aside from their posture.

 _Great_ , you think, _it’s **the** Spiderhero_. You huff a bit. For their benefit, you repeat yourself.

“Okay then…” Wow, this person really isn’t as suave as they seem on-screen. “So uh, you’re that one they think is, well, me, right?” Ah, so even _they_ are in on that? What are they planning? Are they recording this? They better not. You officially hate being recorded.

“Why do you care?” You reply. Why _did_ people care so much about it?

“Well, uh…” Spiderhero frowns – or, what could be taken for one on their stupid fancy mask. How could it even adjust like that? “Because I’m… implicated?” Why was this person so _indecisive_ about even _why_ they’re asking in the first place? Or were you somehow intimidating enough for this person, even if they have a pretty strong track record?

"I don't care, and neither should you." Well, you do sort of care, but _only_ because you keep getting _harassed_ over it!

That seems to have them dumbstruck. You take advantage of that to make your getaway. Nobody would hold you back any longer than “necessary.”

They don’t even try chasing you, thankfully. So, the _oh-so-_ fantastic Spiderhero has more respect than their _insufferable_ fanbase, at least. You sit on the edge of a building about a block away, watching the street below. You’ll have to get a meal soon; you feel your stomach gnawing at you even more than it had been the past couple of days. But you know how to wait for the right time. You’ve had a year of practice already.

The alley is deserted enough to climb down. Then you take off your mask, hoodie, and gloves, stuffing them in the small bag you keep hidden under your clothes. They were, after all, the most recognizable details of your so-called “vigilante” outfit. You pull a thin blue sweater out, to keep off at least some of the cold. The drawstrings of the bag were wearing out; you’d have to find a new one soon.

You stuff a hand in your pocket and pull out a few coins and count them. Three dollars and fifty-five cents in all. This calls for some more work to get a meal tonight.

At the subway station, you wait at the exit to watch who comes out. There usually were enough rich people who wouldn’t have a problem losing a couple bills. Besides, usually that could help you pull off a week or two on a successful night. _And_ it’s “helping the poor” anyways, so who _really_ cares?

You spot a man shouting at another. He’s wearing a spotless black suit while the victim is wearing a really basic blazer. The Common versus the Entitled, as you like to call that occurrence. It’s actually quite usual among this crowd; there’s always an angry Entitled who thinks they’re above everyone else. When you’re close enough, you spot where Entitled’s wallet is in a pocket by the shape of it; when his entire attention is on the Common, you swipe the contents of the pocket. It _is_ his wallet, thankfully.

You walk back towards the subway, pull the bills out, and drop the wallet. You don’t want to risk trying to use this guy’s cards, and you might as well be polite enough to “return” his ID to him. Sixty bucks richer, you make your getaway before anyone notices.

You treat yourself a bit extra at McDonalds, a grand chicken jalapeno and chocolate milk. You consider buying chips later, even. But you’d rather make your money last.

Sitting by the window, you watch the rush of the city in their usual nine-to-five work time, all rushing home at this point to kick off their shoes and watch TV. Not like you ever had the chance to do the same.

The wrappings from your sandwich are dumped into the trash can as you exit, but you hold onto the half-empty chocolate milk, taking your time to enjoy it as you walk. Sometimes you almost forget you can do that. But at least you can.

Next up: finding a place for the night.

You’d have to be careful with the cold. At least you knew a few places. The roof of the office building a couple blocks away had a warm vent between walls, so you might go there.

The next best place was an alley near, but not quite downtown; you wouldn’t run too much risk since there were cardboard boxes all around. They were never set out to get dumped by the city, so they keep piling up.

There were a few other places where you’d managed to find your way into the ventilation system and stay (somewhat) comfortable in a central zone, but those were sometimes a hassle.

You decided on the office building. It didn’t look like it would rain. Besides, the vent offered a bit of shelter.

After finding your way to the roof, you swap your jeans for sweatpants and your shirt for a gray sweatshirt. The air is cozier next to vent; without wind, it almost feels like the inside of a building.

You adjust the contents of your pack to make it a makeshift pillow. Once settled down, you’re looking at the night sky; so much of nature being drowned out by civilization. You roll onto your side and close your eyes.

Cities are terrible.

* * *

Name: Unknown

Nickname(s): Not-spider, White-mask

Title: Unknown

Social Media: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Outfit: Hoodie(s), sweatpants, black gloves, white mask

Connection(s): Unknown

Other: _Not_ a spider, cities suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of learning to do. Thankfully, I've got a good friend to help with the development!
> 
> If you enjoyed it, or find critique, always feel free to comment!
> 
> ~Mythyk


	9. Life is Always in the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which daily life brings pause

Almost as soon as Kori had told me about seeing White-Mask, I wanted to write down the information. She insisted I keep my sleep schedule intact, unlike her. I ended up with a hasty scribble to remind myself after work.

The next morning, I clocked in right at eight, then proceeded to check that everything was in order in the storefront.

In the “Customer Zone,” the back area held multiple video games, organised by which systems they ran on. Except for the clearance bucket, which was always a mess. There were movies right next to it, still a small section. Video, high-end, and point-and-shoot cameras sat towards the front, though still in easy sight of the cashier.

Then my primary zone; the computers. Laptops, desktops, hard drives, bluetooths, gamer-oriented, student-designed and mediocre technology all sat in their respective areas. People didn’t often come in to buy new, though. They tended to walk or call in about malfunctioning or broken tech.

A lot of the time, they were either basic solutions or irreparable damages, so I didn’t struggle. Except for the stubborn ones who insisted I could save their long dead items. But I’d signed up for this, so I couldn’t really complain much when I knew what I walked into. Still, there were those rare days.

My co-worker walked in a half-hour later, and did their rounds before opening the door. They settled themselves at the cash register, pulling out their foldable “quiet time” chair.

I turned on my alarm to do rounds every once in a while, to remind myself of the physical customers. Now for digital customers that left emails for anything they needed help with.

Again, there were simple ones, mainly. Program not printing the document? Check the choice on the “destination.” That was often the problem. Charger not working? I’d have to take a look in-store. Downloads failing? Check your storage space or the software. Otherwise, bring it in. Then again, a lot of it could still be guided online – it was just a bigger struggle to properly communicate ideas to people with very minimal experience. Unless I checked the website for their topic of concern; the easiest way to deal with them.

I took a few calls throughout the day, which were easier and quicker to solve technical difficulties. Consider it: instant replies on _both_ ends.

My shift eventually ended, slow yet quick as it was that kind of day.

I unlocked my apartment door around five, and promptly went to my computer. The note was still stuck on the screen, a reminder to update my spreadsheet on this White-Mask character.

This was a unique chance, one of the few outliers. The area around the apartment was basically radio silence when it came to this person; so why did they show up yesterday? I moved the map to a larger screen and took a step back.

All the sightings or reports were where White-Mask stopped crime, with the exception of this particular event. Could that mean crime was just naturally lower over here? Or did it have to do with some demographic? I searched up other maps about the city and compared them.

None of the maps lined up properly… a likely dead end. If I combined them? Not right now; I heard Kori walk through the front door. Half past six; she must be tired. The TV flickered to life, and the news channel started its daily droning.

I crept up to see Kori stretching in front of the set, as she did pretty often. As she reached down, she spotted me out of the corner of her eye.

“Hey,” she greeted me.

I returned her greeting with a, “Howdy.”

“How was the day?”

“Slow. Calm. You?”

“More requests. Took selfies with some fans on the street,” she stretched her arms out. “Wanna play board games tonight?”

I suggest our simple classic, “Backgammon?”

“Sure.”

She turned to me and we stood together. Kori held me close, arms around my waist and shoulders.

“I’ve been thinkin’..."  Kori’s voice next to my ear rumbled.

"Hm?"

"Thinkin’ ‘bout maybe taking a vacation.”

I hummed in response. We hadn’t taken time off in quite a while, and it could be a nice break.

“Maybe not even travelling.”

I smirked, “No sense of adventure?”

“Just a break, y’know?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

The moment was interrupted when I realised, “I’m hungry.”

* * *

 

Later, we were both settled on our bed, reading _Inkheart_ together. Kori had enjoyed the book from when she was a kid, so she decided I should hear it too. She read it aloud, and I barely read the pages, focusing on the gentle lull of her voice. It was simple, steady, a gentle white noise or lullaby to fall asleep to.

“… _Mo looked around as if the man with the strange name, the man he and Dustfinger obviously feared so much, might step out of the empty barn just as suddenly as Dustfinger had emerged from behind the wall. But the yard was empty, and Meggie was too furious to feel frightened of someone when she knew nothing about him other than his name. ‘You’ve always told me everything!’ she shouted at her father. ‘Always,’_ ” Kori spoke with little pause, immersed in the story.

I imagined that Kori and Dustfinger were alike. A cryptid, mystical person appearing out of nowhere; but, unlike him, she came to save the day, not to bear bad news. Maybe it was just his bluntness that made me think that. She’s also a lot like Meggie, stubbornly wanting the truth…

Eventually I patted the book, and Kori set it aside and I curled into her side, nestling into her warmth.

“To think Meggie’s only twelve,” Kori contemplated, “and I was just a normal kid at that time.”

“You were never normal.”

“Neither were you, then.”

I shoved a pillow in her face. “Sleep, creature!”

“Right back at you,” she chuckled, moving the pillow aside. “But seriously, she’s so young.”

“Never too early.”

“Never too late.”

With her arm wrapped around me, I drifted off, dreaming of things pulled from thin air with the melody of a voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,
> 
> Thank you for reading this.
> 
> This is still in progress, however, I'm calling a hiatus. I don't know when it will end, just know that I will be doing my best to bring this back as soon as I can.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> Mythyk
> 
> P.S. that was page 24 of my Inkheart. It's worth a read to those of you who haven't yet (or even have!). It's a trilogy, by the way.


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